


No tears for the life that you've led

by IaMcHrIsSi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mara Jade as Obi-Wan's daughter, the Solo twins are cute babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 15:06:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5095136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IaMcHrIsSi/pseuds/IaMcHrIsSi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mara tends not to think about her parents all that much. She has some distant, rather blurred memories of her mother, a woman with hair as red as Mara's and bright green eyes, but she doesn't remember her father at all, doesn't think she's ever met him.</p>
<p>She tells herself that it doesn't matter. They're both most likely dead at this point, and anyway, she doesn't need parents anymore. She is an adult, and she is her own woman, she can make a life of her own without anyone trying to meddle or help or anything. </p>
<p>... or: Mara Jade deals with her parents</p>
            </blockquote>





	No tears for the life that you've led

**Author's Note:**

> So, it's been a while since I've last read the Thrawn Trilogie or the Hand of Thrawn Duology, and I really hope I got Mara right here. Many thanks go to darkmagyk, who gave me the prompt, let me rant at her about it, a lot, and helped me figure out the finale scene.

Mara tends not to think about her parents all that much. She has some distant, rather blurred memories of her mother, a woman with hair as red as Mara's and bright green eyes, but she doesn't remember her father at all, doesn't think she's ever met him.

She tells herself that it doesn't matter. They're both most likely dead at this point, and anyway, she doesn't need parents anymore. She is an adult, and she is her own woman, she can make a life of her own without anyone trying to meddle or help or anything.

_(The Emperor was the only father she ever had, the only father wanted, and he had manipulated her, betrayed her,_ used _her. She had been nothing but a plaything to him, a toy, a weapon. Not a person. She doesn't ever want to feel like that again.)_

Honestly, Mara doesn't know what she would even do with parents. There would be no emotional reunion, no running to embrace them or love them unconditionally. They would be strangers, no matter their biological connection, like Skywalker and Organa with the Naberries, family that doesn't even know one another.

_(Sometimes, she dreams of a warm hand on her forehead, of rough fabrics and leather in an old, black ship, of a woman laughing, singing beautiful song that Mara can never quite grasp. She dreams of love, and home, and safety and warmth and familiarity.)_

It's not like Mara doesn't have enough on her plate as it is. She has work to do, things to smuggle and a ship to maintain. She is standing at Karrde's side on meetings with Alliance officials and on those with other smugglers, friends and foes alike. She is helping out wherever necessary, wherever she can help. There's just so much work to do.

And that's not even everything. Skywalker is showing up quite often, to talk and to ask her to train and Force knows what else he thinks he's doing. He is a still bit awkward, but nice, and quietly Mara can admit that she likes him, likes the sincere friendship he is offering her and his honest interest in her story, not to use but to understand her. Organa invited her for caf sometimes, and, perhaps most strangely, Mara finds herself enjoying it, finds herself looking forward to their meetings. She even seeks them out, sometimes. It's an alien feeling, to talk to someone just because she wants to, because she likes them and knows they like her, but Mara is learning.

_(Learning how to be without the Emperor guiding her every step, giving her orders and expecting her to fulfill them without a though, learning how to be a sentient that is not controlled and manipulated, how not to expect his voice in her head, learning to be her own person, ruled only be herself. Learning how to be Mara Jade, smuggler extraordinare, a free woman and nobodys slave, and not the Emperors deceived, used hand.)_

Her parents just don't rate that high on the list of her priorities to spend more than a fleeting thought on them. So when Leia _(and when did she become Leia instead of Organa?)_ hesitantly asks after her family, Mara tells her that she doesn't know without thinking. Leia looks at her with something almost like pity in her eyes, and Mara can feel her defenses snap up around her again. She does not need anyone's pity, does not want it. Especially not about something trivial as the fact that she doesn't know her parents.

Leia notices the change in Mara, thankfully, and starts talking about a new transportation law she is trying to put forth in the senate instead. They don't touch the topic of Mara's parents again until Mara is almost ready to leave for her own ship. Leia takes her hand and quietly offers to run Maras DNA through the New Republic system, so that she might find out who her parents are, if they are still around.

Mara politely but decisively declines and goes back to her ship, thoughts already on the repairs she has to conduct.

That night, she dreams of the day the Emperor took her away from her mother. The details are blurry, many things unclear, her memory as if smudged, but she remembers her mother crying, silent tears running down her cheeks even as she assures Mara that things will be okay. She remembers how her mother clutched her close, remembers the fear her mother tried to hide. Mara dreams of the dread she felt, of the feeling of hopelessness. She dreams of the first days at the Emperors court, dreams of being afraid, of being lonely, of missing her mother horribly.

When she wakes up, she tells herself that her dream isn't important, that this doesn't mean anything. Her mother is not going to come back to her, no matter how much she might wish it, and she doesn't need her to, doesn't want her to. She is perfectly capable of living her own life without her mother, a woman she hasn't seen since she was just four years old.

And really, why should she look into it now? Who her mother is, who her parents are, were, it won't change who Mara is. She won't allow it to influence her. She can't. She's done with being who others want her to be, done with doing only what others expect of her, done with letting others influence her actions and thoughts.

She goes on a mission that Karrde gives her, delivers supplies to a planet far away _(Stewjon. She'd never been there before, though she kind of liked it)_ and lets herself relax. The emptiness of space, the sounds of her ship working on lightspeed, the rough fabrics of her bed, it all calms her down, let's her find something like peace. She doesn't need to know who her parents were. She really doesn't.

* * *

Weeks pass. Mara doesn't even think of Leia's offer anymore, at least not often and never too seriously, busy with her job, her new friends _(and what a strange feeling that is, to actually have friends, not just colleagues)_ , her ship. She's happy, happier than she is used to. It's a good feeling.

There's a job on Ryloth, and she meets Hera Syndulla, a famed early rebel. Syndulla is the hero of a whole generation of young New Republic members, an idealist and someone who is just as comfortable in a room full of smugglers as she is in a room full of New Republic officials. Mara finds herself liking this woman who is so different and yet so similar to herself. It surprises her quite a bit.

It's a small comment, nothing that should throw Mara off in any way, nothing malicious or said with any intent, that keeps Mara awake that night.

Syndulla had shown Mara the city she'd grown up in, a rather small town that had been destroyed by the Empire some eight years ago and had been rebuilt since then. It is easy to see where things were rebuilt, easy to see which buildings are new and which are old, but Syndulla moves through the city as though she doesn't notice the new houses, as though it is still the city she grew up in. Mara doesn't understand how she does it, but then again, she's never truly had a home, a place that makes her feel the way Ryloth obviously makes Syndulla feel.

“You can't be here all that often.” Mara says, though it is almost a question. She knows that Syndulla is a high ranking new republic official, she knows that the other woman is asked for often, but right now it seems as though Syndulla rarely leaves the planet at all.

“Well, no. Not as much as I'd like, but you know how things are. Always busy. There's just not much time for the things I'd like to do.” Syndulla chuckles quietly, almost sadly, and Mara is not quite sure what to make of it. A quick feeling of something like fear settles in her stomach, because she honestly doesn't know what she'd do if Syndulla suddenly started crying or something like that. Mara is many things, but she is not the most socially skilled woman,

Syndulla, however, shakes her head a bit and her eyes clear again. “Still, it's good to be here, you know.” She says, and Mara doesn't, but she nods anyway, and Syndulla continues talking. “It's nice to come home, to know that I can always come back here, no matter what else is happening out there. I could loose my position within the New Republic today, and I'd still be welcome here, I'd still have a home, and nobody really can take that from me. That's... well, it's good.”

Mara finishes her job, and she leaves Ryloth again, but Syndullas words stay with her. A place she can always return to, a home that noone can take away from her. Mara doesn't have that. She has her ship, and her will, but other than that? No, she doesn't have a home.

It doesn't matter, she tells herself. Organa doesn't have a home, either, not anymore, and Skywalker dislikes his home. Solo doesn't like talking about Corellia. A home is not something she needs, and anyway, it would come with more strings attached than she is comfortable with. Syndulla has a home, and she is a patriot, which doesn't only mean that she can always return to Ryloth but also that she has to follow her planets rules, that she has to fight for it when necessary. A home can bind a person, it can force them to act in a way they don't like, and Mara does not need anyone else trying to control her.

She doesn't need a home.

* * *

 

She is visiting Skywalker when there's suddenly a baby shoved into her arms. He is babysitting for his sister, she remembers. Leia had mentioned wanting to go on a real date for once.

The baby in her arms, Jacen, if the blue blanket around it is any indication, is screaming. Loudly. Mara stares at him, then at Skywalker, who is trying to calm down Jaina, who is screaming at least as loud. He looks at her apologetically, but then Jaina starts screaming even louder _(which Mara honestly hadn't thought possible)_ and Skywalker is back to concentrating on his little, obviously distressed niece.

Mara clutches the child close to her chest, afraid she might drop it. What is Skywalker thinking, handing her a child? She's never held a baby before, she doesn't know how this works! What if she breaks it? Babies are supposed to be fragile, _what should she do?_

Mara tries to steady her hands, to give the little boy _(and herself)_ some sense of security, but the knowledge that Organa will kill her if anything happens to that kid is not exactly something that calms one down.

In Mara's arms, Jacen is starting to wriggle. His head is red, his eyes full of tears. He doesn't have teeth yet, she sees, and somehow that seems so ridiculous she almost starts laughing. Carefully, she tries to put him over her shoulder like she's seen Leia do it. She's never really held the kid before, always left before someone could offer a baby to her to hold, and she's beyond nervous.

_Well, this had to happen at some point,_ she thinks wryly, and tries not to smile. Or run away screaming.  _At least they're not making me change his diapers._ Softly, she starts whispering things to the little boy, sweet nothings that he won't even understand. It makes her relax a bit, because at least the kid doesn't seem to be worse in her arms then he was before. Mara has seen Leia and Solo doing that before, talking to the babies, and usually it seems to calm them down, but today little Jacen just keeps on screaming.

Mara knows that some children like music, mostly because she heard Solo mention it once, and because she honestly can't sing, she begins to hum. She doesn't really have a melody in mind, just goes for what seems to be working. Slowly, Jacen starts to calm down a bit, stops wriggling and finally even stops screaming. Mara doesn't stop humming, though she does wink at Skywalker in triumph, who is doing his best to calm his still screaming niece.

Jacen is quiet now, his warm body still. Mara can feel his heart beating, still a bit fast, but steady. She is still humming her little melody. Mara realizes that this is not something she just made up, it's something she remembers. From where? She's never been big on music, and it certainly isn't anything that she's heard on Coruscant. Maybe she's heard it from Leia, Skywalker or Solo?

But no. Now that she is actually concentrating on the memory she is humming, she recognizes it rather easily. It is a melody she dreams of, sometimes, a melody that in her mind is linked to the few memories she has of her mother.  _Her mother._ This woman, this stranger, she must have sung it to Mara when she was a small child.

“Are you okay, Mara?” Skywalker asks, and it sounds as though he is coming from far away. Mara blinks. Suddenly, she realizes that she's been staring at an empty spot at the wall. Jacen is heavy in her arms, though thankfully, he is quiet. Skywalker is looking at her, worry clear in his baby blue eyes.

Slowly, she nods. “Yes, sure.” She says, but she knows it isn't really convincing, and Skywalker looks more worried instead of less.

“You're very pale all of sudden.” He says, his voice steady and calm, and she closes her eyes. When did she become so easy to read? She's the Emperors Ha... No. _No_. She is Mara Jade, smuggler in Karrdes employ, and she'll be damned if she lets others get past her defenses this easily.

She takes a deep breath, schools her face into the mask of cool indifference that has served her so well over the years. “I'm fine, Skywalker. Stop looking at me.” She'd say it came out harsher than she intended it too, but that would be a lie. She wanted it to sting, wanted to piss him of enough to leave her alone.

In Maras arms, Jacen wriggles a bit. Mara closes her eyes and tries to project calm and serenity into the Force. No need to get the baby up and screaming again.

Skywalker is still looking at her. Of course he is. And he is not the least bit fooled. Curse him for being so perceptive, and so... kind? If she really doesn't want to talk about it, he will let it go, she knows. He is nice like that. But damn him, now she almost wants to talk about it. About her mother. Whom she hasn't seen since she was four. Whom she doesn't even know the name of. Whom she has never talked about to anyone.

Damn him.

“This song... I think my mother sung it to me.” Mara says, her eyes closed. She doesn't want to see pity in Skywalkers eyes. He has to know what Mara told Leia about her parents, of course he does. Everyone knows that Skywalker and Organa keep nothing from one another.

“The one you hummed for Jacen? It's very pretty.” Luke's voice is steady, filled with compassion. But when Mara opens her eyes, there is no pity in his eyes, only understanding. It makes her want to tell him more. Which she really shouldn't, because Skywalker has no right to know, there is no real reason to tell him, and honestly, giving someone else this kind of leverage over herself? Sloppy, and unnecessary.

But Skywalker,  _Luke,_ is her friend. And she is not an assassin anymore, not the Emperors Hand any longer. She is her own person, and she can have friends. She can talk about whatever she wants to with whoever she wants to.

“I don't really remember her. I honestly don't even remember the lyrics of this song. There were lyrics, I know that, but what they were? I don't know. But my mother used to thing this. I didn't think I still remembered it.” Mara sways a bit, concentrating on the baby in her arms. He is kinda cute, in the way babies are. And it is somewhat nice to have him in her arms. Not for more often, Mara doesn't need this every day, not even every week, but right now, it's nice.

“My aunt used to sing me a similar song, too. Not exactly the same, obviously, but it sounded a bit like yours. It always comforted me when she did it, even though of course, once I'd reached a certain age I didn't want to admit that anymore.” He grins, rather self depreciatingly. Mara can imagine him as a lanky teen, polite but not too invested in showing everyone how much he loves his aunts comforting.

“You must miss her very much.” She says. The words slip out before she can think about it, but Luke just smiles sadly.

“Yes, I do. There's so many situation I wish I could ask her for her advice, so many times I just want to see her smile and eat the lunch she used to make. But well... she's with her ancestors now, in the Desert With Endless River. I like to think that she's happy there, with uncle Owen and grandmother.” He looks at Jaina for a moment, and there is such a bittersweet smile on his face, Mara wants to go and hug him. Except she doesn't do hugging. She doesn't even truly do touching, so the urge is stupid. And anyway, they both have a baby in their arms.

“I'm sorry about your mother.” Luke's voice is quiet, but Mara understands him perfectly fine. If it were anyone else, she'd … attack them, probably. Or yell at them. But Luke... he is so sincere about it. He is genuinely sorry that she's not with her mother anymore. So she just takes a deep breath, and looks away again.

“She might still be alive, somewhere. I just... she'd be a stranger, even if I found her. I probably wouldn't even recognize her, and she wouldn't know me, either. It's... there's no need to be sorry. She's ...just a stranger I don't even know the name of.” Leia's offer is suddenly back in Mara's mind. She could find out. If her mothers DNA is in the New Republic servers, that is, but there is a chance it is. Especially given the fact that the New Republic servers have access to most data from the old Republic servers...

“Don't you want to meet her? If she is still alive, that is. Because I'm pretty sure that she'd love to meet you. She probably misses you like crazy.” Luke tells her.

“You think?” Mara smiles. The utter honesty, the steadfast belief that of course people are good, that a happy ending is always possible, is something that is so very Luke. She likes that about him.

“Of course. Nobody who sings to their child just forgets it when it is taken away. She must think you're dead by now, though.” He looks so sad about that. As if it was his mother, not hers. As if he were personally involved in this, even though of course he isn't. This is just who he is, caring for everyone, wanting to help even when his help isn't asked for.

“You think I should find her?”Mara asks. She is still holding Jacen, who has started to snore a bit. It's really cute.

“It's your decision. She's your mother.” Luke says, of course he does. He is smiling, both at her and at Jaina, while Mara feels her head reeling. Should she find her mother? Doesn't she owe it to this woman, this beautiful, strong, warm woman, to tell her that she is still alive, that she didn't want to leave her mother?

“Come, let's put those rascals back into their bed.” Luke says with a smile, and she knows that he knows that she is at least considering it.

* * *

She dreams of her mother again. The memories aren't any sharper, no more details become clear, but for once, Mara welcomes it. She finds herself wanting to know more about her.

And honestly, it's not like this knowledge is really going to change Mara herself, is it? But what if it is? She doesn't want anyone to change her, can't allow anyone to get this kind of control over her. Never again.

She's distracted on the job. That's never happened before. Karrde notices, because of course he does, and asks whether she is okay. She tells him yes, and he tells her to take a couple days off. Mara wants to curse him, but in truth she understands why he does it. It's maddening to be around people who know her so well.

That's how she ends up having caf with Leia Organa-Solo. Again. Wasn't this what started this mess?

The twin babies are lying on a blanket, a pretty mobile over their heads. Mara knows that Solo made it himself, and for a moment she wondered whether it's strange that she knows. Knowing personal, useless things like this implies a familiarity with the family, a close friendship that she is honestly not used to. But she likes those people, strange as they are.

Suddenly, she remembers that Leia was adopted, that this woman had her own problems with her biological parents and whether or not she should let that influence who she is. Mara hadn't forgotten, of course, but … she'd never really made the connection to her own situation. Now, though, she can't help but ponder it. Would Leia have wanted to find out about her biological mother if she hadn't learned about Vader first? Would she have ignored all hints to her biological heritage, or would she have pursued them?

Mara is not sure how to broach the question, doesn't truly know how to handle personal conversations like this, so she just kinda blurts it out.

“Leia.” She says. “This is personal, and I'm sorry if I cross any boundaries here, but … how do you deal with it? How do you figure out your identity without letting your biological parents control you?” It's not the most artful way to say it, and Leia does look a bit shocked.

Mara is getting ready to back away, to take the question back, but Leia just takes a deep breath and leans back into her chair.

“I didn't know them. Not as my parents, you know. They're... just strangers, in the end. Strangers that I wish I could have known, surely, but they... I had parents. I have a family. I was incredibly lucky that way. I don't need either Anakin Skywalker nor Padme Amidala to be my parents, to be someone I can mold myself after. I have had my role models, I still have some of them, and I am my own person, just like you are. I... there are days that I wish I was closer to them, to my biological parents, I mean, but most days they are... more or less benevolent strangers. I deeply love my brother, and I would not want to change knowing him for anything, but that does not mean that I have to be close to our biological parents. To be entirely honest, I would rather be close to Beru and Owen Lars than to Anakin and Padme. Possibly that's not entirely fair, but that's how it is.”

Leia is looking Mara straight in the eyes, and Mara can see the steel there, the strength and the determination. Mara envies Leia for her strong convictions.

“You are afraid finding your parents might change you.” It's not a question.

“Yes.” Mara says, because there honestly isn't much more to say to that. She _is_ afraid, terribly so, but she also wants to know about her mother, wants to find out whether she is still around.

“I can't promise you it won't. I'd like to, I'd like to just say that this is not going to matter, or that the only person who can change you is you, but we both know better than that. But I doubt the knowledge about your parents can control you. You are fiercely independent, and you won't give that up, even if it did turn out that you're the daughter of Vader and Mon Mothma. You're the woman who told my brother to rather kill her than let her go back into slavery. Anything else is probably not going to hit you that hard. And anyway, do you really think we'd let something like that take you away from us?” Leia smiles, and Mara can't help but smile too. Leia's honesty is different from Luke's, harsher, somehow, but Mara likes it just as well.

“Would you... would you tell me if I started to change?” She asks, hesitantly. She doesn't usually do hesitantly, but right now? Leia has just given her a huge pep talk, Mara figures she can let the other woman know she's a bit nervous.

“I promise.” Leia says, utterly sincere, and takes her hand.

* * *

It takes a few days for the searching program to work it's way through the New Republic servers. Mara is alternately exited and scared, she wants to know and then she doesn't. It's stupid, her behaving like a child over this, but the possibility of finding her mother, finding this woman who made her feel save, loved, who sung so prettily and had a nice ship, makes her giddy with anticipation.

Of course, Mara mentally prepares herself for a disappointment, as well. She tries, at least. There's every chance that her mother might be dead, or that her DNA is not in the data the New Republic has. All of this might lead her nowhere, or lead her to a grave.

Still, the anticipation makes Mara giddy, unfocused. Karrde rolls his eyes, fondly, Mara thinks, and tells her to take a few more days of. He assures her that she still has a place in his business, that she always will have a place in his business, but that right now, she's just to distracted to be much use.

_(She never told him that she was afraid of loosing her job, of this position that has become part of her identity even though she never planned for it to be, never wanted to be a smuggler in the first place. Karrde knows, though, and sometimes she wonders whether he isn't force sensitive, at least a bit, because sometimes his instincts are just that good. Then again, so are Solo's, and that one certainly isn't force sensitive)_

* * *

Leia offers to stay with her as she reads the results, as does Skywalker, but this is something that Mara has to do on her own. This... this knowledge, this is about her parents, about her _mother_ , and as much as she likes them, this is too personal.

The data pad lies on her bed for the whole day. Mara finds excuses not to look at it, not to read the findings of the computer. She cleans the ship for the first time in weeks, really thoroughly cleans it, and then she cleans her blasters, too. She considers hand cleaning her cloths, too, but the she shakes her head and snorts. This is getting ridiculous. She wanted to know who her mother was _(is?),_ there's no reason to back out now. This is her decision, and she made it a few days ago.

She takes the data pad.

There's a picture of a woman, a pretty woman, with red hair and green eyes like Mara herself. There's lines around her eyes, and the woman looks bitter, tired, though Mara suspects that she once was quite beautiful.

**Deceased** , is written next to the picture in big, red letters. Mara takes a deep breath. It's not like she didn't suspect this, she did, of course she did. She always knew that the Empire had most likely killed her. Still, to know without a doubt that it is true... it goes through her gut like a knife.

Slowly, she sits down on her bed. Mara thinks she should react, should feel joy or sadness or anger or fear, but other than a deep seated pain, there is mostly numbness.

Sera. Her mothers name was Sera Jade, she was unmarried _(of course she was, Mara can't remember ever meeting her father, after all)_ , she was a smuggler _(Mara remembers the ship, remembers with a sudden clarity the room she was never allowed to be in, remembers how they were always in the air, never on any planet for long)_ and later an Alliance pilot, which is why the New Republic has a file on her.

Sera Jade had an exceptional service record, she was lauded by all her superiors as determined and clever. She seems to have hated the Empire deeply, but she never truly let that get in the way of doing the Alliances business. She died three years before the battle of Yavin in a skirmish above Sollust, covering for an Alliance triage ship. _(For a moment, fear runs through Mara, cold and white. Where was she when this happened? Did she...? But no, she wasn't. Around the time her mother died Mara had been on Coruscant, being trained by the Emperor. She didn't... she didn't harm her mother. She didn't.)_

Mara touches the picture of her mother. It's only the data pad, cool and metallic, but for a moment she imagines that she can feel warm, smooth skin under her fingers instead. When she closes her eyes, she sees her memories strangely mixing with this picture, sees the smile she remembers on this older woman. It doesn't seem... right, though, not with this woman's tired eyes.

Going by the date of recruitment listed on the file, Sera Jade joined the Alliance not long after the Emperor had taken Mara. It was most likely a reaction to it, Mara realizes, her mother joining the Alliance because the Empire had taken away her daughter. It makes Mara feel strange. Would her mother still be alive if she had not been taken? Would Sera have joined the Alliance anyway, or would she have stayed a smuggler?

What would Mara's life have been like? She had been 14 when her mother had died, and she hadn't ever noticed any difference. But had she been allowed to stay with her mother, would Sera have been more careful then? Or would she have felt obligated to protect the triage ship anyway, because that's what the good guys do?

There's other information, too. Sera Jade was originally from Corellia, from one of the poor towns, it seems. There are parents listed, but apparently they died before Mara's birth, even. No siblings, no extended family. Sera Jade had no one but her daughter, and even Mara was taken away from her. Mara can understand why her Sera's eyes are so tired.

There's an SO listed, and a few pilots Sera served with. Some of them have died, too, but there's a couple who are still alive. Whom Mara could still ask for information about her mother.

She leans back until her back hits the cool wall and closes her eyes. What has she truly learned now? She has learned that her mother was a fighter. That Mara is the daughter of an Alliance pilot, and that her mother died protecting her fellow soldiers. She has learned that her mother was alone, and that she was angry. She has learned that once upon a time, her mother was a smuggler, just like Mara is now.

Mara smiles as a thought crosses her mind. Maybe she could ask Karrde if he remembers Sera, or ask other older smugglers, because if she's learned one thing in the past years it's that smugglers rarely exist in a void. Everyone knows someone, and maybe someone remembers Sera.

She picks the data pad back up. Maybe she can find out more about her mother, find out what happened to her things and if that ship she half remembers still exists.

Another file catches her eye. Embarrassingly, it takes Mara a moment to realize that of course her father's file would be on here, too, if his DNA was in the Republic servers, which it apparently is. She had wanted to find her mother, had not really been interested in her father, whom she doesn't remember in the slightest, who isn't listed in her mothers file as far as she's seen, but she can't deny she's a bit curious. She clicks on the symbol for the file.

And almost drops the data pad. **Obi-Wan Kenobi** , the file reads, big and clear.

_What the everliving fuck?!_

For a moment, it seems as though Mara can't breath, not out of shock or pain or anything, but due to the complete ridiculousness of the situation. _Obi-Wan Kenobi_ is supposed to be her father? What the hell?

She hears a slightly hysterical laugh, and after a second she realizes that it's her who's laughing. It's just so … hilariously, ridiculously absurd. Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Great Negotiator, Jedi Master of the Old Order, Hero of the Clone Wars, enemy of the Empire, master of Anakin Skywalker... _her father_?

Mara lets her head fall on the bed. It is so completely... strange. Ridiculous. She doesn't need to read the file on the data pad to know what happened to Obi-Wan Kenobi. She knows of his death, has a good idea of his life through Clone Wars legends other rebels and smugglers have gold her, and through the few comments Skywalker drops about him every now and then.

But her _father_? This is just so beyond everything, so out there, that Mara just doesn't know how to compute it. Obi-Wan Kenobi, a hero and a Jedi, is her father, she shares his genetics. What a ridiculous, ridiculous thought.

* * *

Mara knows that there is a Wall of Remembrance for all those who died in the service of the Alliance. She asks Leia to tell her where it is. Leia, being the good friend she is doesn't ask about Mara why she wants to know, though Mara is reasonably certain that Leia knows.

The Wall is white, with a silver star for every fallen Alliance soldiers. There are many, so many stars, every single one with a name attached to it, and Mara can't help but stare. She'd known many Alliance members had died, had always known that the Alliance had lost many battles, had had to bury many soldiers and mechanics and politicians. She's not part of the Alliance, has never even thought about joining, but this... this is huge, and it hurts in a way Mara never expected it to.

She traces the stars lightly with her hands, feeling their shapes under her fingers. There's so many names, so many sentients who died to make this galaxy a better place.

She knows that Obi-Wan Kenobi has a star here, somewhere, maybe even a special, somehow accentuated one, for one of the heroic Jedi the whole galaxy knew off, but it's not him she's come to pay her respects to.

It's impossible to find her mothers name in all those stars, and so she goes to a terminal and enters the name Sera Jade. A star a bit to her right starts glowing in a warm yellow.

It's a star like every other one on this wall, but to Mara, it's somehow special. It _feels_ special. She touches it, memorizes it's position and the way her mothers name is written above it, cursive small black letters imprinted in the white wall.

Mara closes her eyes, and there she is, a red haired woman with green eyes, a laugh on her lips and a song in her voice. She's so distant and so familiar at the same time, it's the strangest feeling.

To her immense surprise, Mara feels tears running down her cheeks, hot and heavy. It's stupid, Mara hasn't seen this woman since she was four, she doesn't even have many memories of her, but in this moment, it's like some sort of defense has broken down inside her, she can't stop the tears anymore.

She should feel ashamed of breaking down here like this, of being so vulnerable in such a public space, of giving possible enemies such a tool to use it against her, but somehow she can't. All Mara can feel is a deep, drowning sadness, and a sudden feeling of loneliness that is completely illogical, because she has more friends than she's ever had before, but...

She just misses her mother. So very much.

A warm hand squeezes her shoulder. Mara doesn't turn around, she doesn't need to. She can feel Skywalker, can make out his presence in the Force. It's the only reason she doesn't pull the blaster she has strapped securely to her hip.

This way she just keeps on crying, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Skywalker, to his credit, doesn't say a word, he just stays there with her, giving her whatever comfort he can.

Why did it have to be her mother? Why could Sera Jade not have been one of the many Alliance pilots who survived the rebellion, who are still flying for the Republic these days? Why can't Mara be the lucky one, just for once?

She doesn't know how long she stands there, Luke close to her, supporting her through a simple touch, but it feels like hours. In the end the tears just stop coming, as though there are no tears left in her, and she opens her eyes.

Her mother's name is still above her star, still the same as it was when she first saw it. For a moment, Mara wonders whether she should take a holo or something, to remember this place, but then she decides that that wouldn't help her. She has two holos of her mother alive, she doesn't need a holo of her name on a wall.

She takes a deep breath, looks around for the first time since entering this room. She's not the only one crying in front of the Wall of Remembrance, and it makes her feel better somewhat. Groups of sentients are standing at the wall, some holding each other, some sobbing more or less openly, others staring at it with blank expressions.

Luke's hand is still on her shoulder. She changes a look at him. His eyes are flying over the wall, as though trying to take it all in, as though he is trying to honor every single fallen Alliance soldier. Mara almost snorts. It's certainly something the farmboy would try to do.

“Thank you.” She whispers to him, and is surprised at how husky her voice sounds. But then again, she shouldn't be. She just spend Force knows how long crying. Of course her voice sounds husky.

“Always, Mara.” Luke says, in that sincere voice of his, and Mara believes him.

* * *

She reads Obi-Wan Kenobis file after ignoring it for a whole week. She hadn't known what to do with it, to be honest, hadn't known how to deal with the fact that apparently her father is a hero. But, in the end, she decides that if she can deal with her mother being a heroic Alliance pilot, she can deal with her father having been a Jedi.

The file is long, and elaborate, with many accounts of heroics in battle and praises from both the media and the Republic military. Lots of older rebels had given their first hand accounts of the old Jedi as well, stories about a hero that never seemed to care for himself, only for others.

There's pictures, too, and short holo vids. Pictures of a man with beard and clever blue eyes, holos of a Jedi who wears the traditional Jedi robes so natural that she can't imagine him in anything else.

Almost always, there's a young man by his side, blond and blue eyed and looking so damn familiar. Mara hadn't realized just how much Skywalker looks like his father before this.

She probably hadn't wanted to, to be honest, because she remembers Darth Vader, of course she remembers him. And she doesn't want to think of him as Luke and Leia's father, because Darth Vader was, to her, always pain and failure and fear all in one.

She's not really trying to look into Darth Vader, or Anakin Skywalker, or however one wants to call it, though. She wants to know about Obi-Wan Kenobi, the man not only one witness called the perfect Jedi, and who still trained a monster, who still had a daughter.

She reads the file chronologically, starting with him being given to the Temple hours after his birth _(on Stewjon. Mara doesn't particularly like Stewjon, and she doubts that Obi-Wan would have listed it as his homeworld, but she still stores that piece of information away for later)_ , going over his time as a Youngling in the Temple _(many of the things listed there she doesn't understand, can't truly make sense of most of the tests her father was praised for. Some of them, though, she recognizes, and a shiver runs down her back when she thinks back to her own training)_ , his time as a padawan with a Jedi master named Qui-Gon Jinn, Master Jinns murder by a Sith, becoming a master himself and finally, the Clone Wars. Most of the data contained in the file is about the Clone Wars, these three years at the end of the Old Republic. Mara can understand why.

After the Clone Wars, there's almost no data. There's a note that he survived Order 66, but not how. Another note about him choosing exile on Tatooine, but again, no why or how _(though, come to think of it, Skywalker being raised there probably had something to do with it)_. His death is detailed a bit more clearly, in a report written by Leia herself.

Mara sighs. The man was a hero. There's no doubting it. He was a legend, one of those white knights that are supposed to only exist in fairytales. He was a man of his word, apparently, a warrior who protected the innocent, a kind man who tried to save everyone, and always did the right thing. He was everything that Mara is not, everything that she won't ever be.

And then he had to watch the Republic fall, see his Order destroyed and his friends slaughtered, and witness his protege and best friend turning to the Dark Side before spending 19 years in exile on a remote desert planet.

“Looks like the bad luck is genetic.” Mara murmurs, and goes back to watch a holo of a young Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker laughing together, looking happy and free and like everything they lost later on.

* * *

“Tell me about Corellia.” It's not of a spur of the moment thing. It, this request, is something Mara has spend much time thinking about, pondering it until she decided that she had to ask.

Part of the reason for finding out about her parents was, after all, the idea to find a place where she belongs, a place that would be what Ryloth is to Captain Syndulla. Of course, by now she understands that that wish was more than a bit naive. The fact that her mother was from Corellia doesn't make Mara a Corellian, not really. Still, she's curious.

Hence the current situation, sitting in the Falcon with Solo and asking the only Corellian she truly counts as a friend _(Antilles is a good guy, and Skywalker likes him, but he is not Mara's friend, at least not yet)_ for information about this planet that she could have once belonged to, if things had been different.

Solo is staring at her. He doesn't often talk about Corellia, and Mara suspects that he has mostly bad memories from there, but she needs to know.

“It's huge.” Solo says, finally. “There's pretty woods and even a few mountains, but mostly it's city and industrial parks. Those are... well. There's so many people there, it's insane. The lower levels are, well, the lower levels. Poverty is a huge thing, and there's legions of street kids. Criminality is high, though of course the rich folks don't want to admit that. There's almost no welfare, and hospitals are only for those who can pay enough. Under the Empire, it became worse. The Moff was more or less endorsing crime, and CorSec stopped even trying to reign the gangs in. You can't walk through the streets without a blaster in your hand, because you will be mugged.”

Solo shrugs, face carefully blank. “There's some good things, too. The ships build there tend to be very good, and the alcohol is one of the best. The smaller towns are safer, and according to Wedge in towns like the one he is from you don't have to worry about crime at all. If you're middle class, you're reasonably safe. Then Corellia is nice, I guess.”

“Oh.” Mara says. She doesn't know what else to say. She's been on Corellia exactly once, on a job for the Emperor. She had seen nothing of what Solo described, though, of course, she'd stayed close to the Moff and his personal palace.

“Your mother is from there, isn't she.” It's not a question. Mara wants to curse Solo for being so perceptive, but to be honest, it's probably more that she is so obvious on this matter. She nods.

“Maybe she was one of the lucky ones. Those who got to have a safe childhood, with a nice family and all that.” He is trying to cheer her up, and she appreciates it, even though she can't quite believe his words.

“She became a smuggler.” Mara tells him dryly. He grins.

“Doesn't have to mean anything. Half the population of Corellia tries that one at least once. It's just a really lucrative business, and there's enough ships capable of the flights you need to make.” He's proud, at least a bit, Mara realizes to her surprise. She hadn't thought that possible, after listening to his account about his home world.

“Also, it's not like smuggling is such a dishonorable profession. Well, sure, it's illegal, but it's not that bad. There's many worse ways to make a living. You know that as well as I do.” Solo says, and Mara grins. He's not wrong there, she has to admit.

* * *

“I knew him as Ben.” Skywalker tells her a few days later. It startles Mara, because he was not supposed to realize that she is suddenly interested in Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Mara has started asking around. There's many people who still remember the Great Negotiator, or at least remember hearing stories about him, legends. She tries to be inconspicuous, to pass it of as just wanting to hear a few stories, but of course, Skywalker has noticed it.

“He was the old hermit, this slightly weird guy who lived in the desert and never really mingled with any of our people. He was always polite, though, and ready to help if needed. My uncle never liked him, but in hindsight, that may have had more to do with the fact that he feared Ben would make a Jedi out of me and get me killed.” Skywalker says, a somewhat sad smile playing around his lips. “He was not that far off.”

“But he didn't get you killed. You're still here, more or less healthy and sane.” Mara tells him, and Luke smirks wryly.

“No. If anything, I'm going to do that myself. Get myself killed, I mean.” He says, running his hand through his hair, and Mara can't help but snort.

“Your sister would end you if you got yourself killed, farmboy. She'd find a way to revive you just so she can kill you again.” Mara says, and Luke laughs.

“That she would, without a doubt.” Skywalker grins, and for a moment, Mara is almost jealous of what he has in his sister, of this family he can be absolutely sure about no matter what else is going on.

“We used to make up stories about him, you know. Camie Marstrap was sure that he was a bounty hunter who had decided to hide in the desert after his wife was killed, and some people said that he was a former Imperial. Biggs and I liked to think that he was a rebel who had to hide.” He is smiling again, fondly this time. Mara doesn't really know who Biggs is or was, but Luke mentions him sometimes, and Mara concludes that Biggs must have been one of Luke's friends on Tatooine. And that he is most likely dead, given the fact that she hasn't met him yet.

“But nobody thought he'd be a Jedi?” Mara asks. She tries to understand how the man must have felt during his years in exile. Alone in the desert, having had to watch the order he spend his whole life devoted to be violently destroyed, no, completely extinguished, becoming an object of legends, of the rumors of the planet he found refugee on... She feels for him.

“Oh, there were people saying that, too, but nobody believed it. After all, everyone knew that all the Jedi were dead, didn't they?” Luke's smile is self deprecating now, and Mara feels to urge to punch him in the shoulder for it.

“But he was.” She says. Luke nods. “What happened? I read Leia's report, I know how he died, but how did he even get to the Death Star? Why leave his exile after so many years, apparently without having a plan?” Mara asks him.

“It all happened within two days, you know. And it started so innocently. My uncle bought two droids from the Jawas. They're scavengers, you know, selling whatever they find in the desert or steal somewhere, nobody really wants to know. Anyway, we needed new droids for the farm, and so we went and bought two. Those two just happened to be R2-D2 and C-3PO.” He grins. Mara knows the droids, of course she does. Luke doesn't fly with any astromech other than his R2 unit, and the annoying translator is around at all times, too. She grins. So that's how Luke got settled with them.

“I was supposed to clean them. I've always been interested in mechanics, you know, so that was one of my regular tasks. And when I cleaned R2, I found a recording from Leia, asking for an 'Obi-Wan Kenobi'. I connected that to Old Ben pretty quickly. Honestly, I still don't know how he thought Ben Kenobi was a good cover name, but then again, nobody ever found him, so there's that.

I asked Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru about it, but like I said, Uncle Owen never liked Ben... Obi-Wan. He just told me that it was stupid, and that that Obi-Wan had died around the time my father did. Which was... yeah. An interesting perspective of the whole thing.”

Another man or woman might be angry to be deceived like this, furious even, Mara certainly would, but Luke is just... sad. _He always wants to believe the best in people, and one day that will get him killed,_ she thinks. But then again, Owen Lars is dead, so that might be part of it, too.

“R2 ran away to find Ben. I was so scared, you know. Droids are … well, now I could easily buy a new one, but back then, we really didn't have a lot of money. R2 and 3PO, they cost us pretty much all we had, all our savings. And to loose one of them, just because I didn't put the brake on R2... that would have been... well, bad.”

He shakes his head. “Strange, how huge of a problem that seemed to be in that moment, when only hours later, my whole life had changed so irrevocably.

“Anyway, I went out to find him. I actually had a rifle with me, I wasn't stupid. I just... didn't really pay attention to my surroundings anymore after I saw R2 again. And well, after a short episode of the Tusken knocking me out and Ben somehow scaring them away, he took me to his hut. It was a small thing, you know, a tiny hut, but Ben seemed very at home there. He found the complete message, and then he gave me my father's lightsaber. He told me that Darth Vader had killed my father, and basically gave me my first bit of actual information about the Jedi. He also told me that Uncle Owen was smallminded, so apparently the dislike between them was mutual.” Luke grimaces.

“Then, well... he offered me to come with him to Alderaan, to bring these droids back to the Organas. I told him no, I had to stay with my family, even though to be honest, of course I wanted to leave that dustball. We found the Jawas who had sold my uncle the droids, killed by stormtroopers. I ran of to the farm, but I was too late. Then I went back to Ben to accompany him to Alderaan, and the rest should be in Leia's report.” Luke finishes slightly awkwardly. He doesn't like talking about his uncle and aunts death, Mara knows, and she appreciates that he told her anyway.

“I wish I could have known him better. He was always kind to me, and I think he would have really liked you. He was tough, and he was a bit sarcastic, so I think that's at least something and...” He's starting to ramble, and Mara just gives him a look. He stops.

“Thank you.” She tells him, fighting a smile. “Farmboy.”

“He's... Jedi can become some sort of force ghosts. I don't really know how it works. But, sometimes he shows up to tell me something. I don't think he knows you exist, or well, that you're his daughter, but … I could tell him. Or you could try to call him. If you want.” Innocent blue eyes are looking into hers, but Mara can do nothing but shake her head. Force ghosts? She's heard of it, sure, Luke mentioned it before, as did Leia but somehow... she never thought about it in relation to herself, never really considered that she might actually be able to see her biological father.

She's not sure she wants to.

* * *

Mara wonders, sitting in her ship, comfortably on the way to a job, whether learning about who her parents were changed her. Is she different than before, like she feared? Does the fact that she now knows about her lineage dictate her actions?

She spends some of her free time trying to find information about them, sure. Just now she spend two hours reading and rereading the letter her mother's Alliance SO had send her after she had contacted him to ask about her mother. The letter is long, and it's a very personal account of the person her mother had been, ending in an invitation to visit at any time. Mara already knows that she will keep this letter close, and that this will not be the only time she rereads it.

She doesn't have a home, a planet she feels as connected to as Syndulla does to Ryloth, as she'd secretly hoped, but that's okay. Most of her friends don't have a home like that either.

Mara is a smuggler, like her mother was, so there's not much here that could change. She is proud that her mother was a hero of the Alliance, but that doesn't make her feel obligated to join the Alliance herself. Nor does the fact that her father was a Jedi compel her to become a Jedi herself. She's happy where she is, being the smuggler she already was before learning about them.

Then again, she hasn't even truly thought about the fact that she could actually talk to her father. Like, really, in real time. She could go and talk with his ghost.

She's still not sure if she wants to.

It's been a couple days since Skywalker told her it's possible, and she can't decide whether or not that's a good thing. She's never met Kenobi before, and he doesn't know she even exists. Why change that now? It's not like she needs a father, and she knows about his life through the files and stories she's read and heard. Why talk to him?

_Because none of that gave you any actual information about what his personality was like beyond badass, wise and kind. Because you can talk to friends of your mother, but all his friends are dead._ The thoughts come unbidden, and Mara sighs. There's good reasons to talk to him, of course there are. But she doesn't want to. She simply doesn't want to.

It's not that she's afraid of him, not really. He is a ghost, after all, he can't really hurt her, and from what she's heard from pretty much everyone, he wouldn't, even if he could.

But still... Mara's afraid he might try to influence her. She already knows that death is not necessarily the end of the control a father figure can have over her, knows that the Emperor could still command her to do something even as he was dying. Years after his death, his last command was something that influenced her actions.

And she knows that Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn't the Emperor, of course she knows, but well... she thought the Emperor was a good man, too, thought of him as the only father she'd ever known, the only father she'd ever need, and he used her, manipulated her, controlled her. He treated her as though he owned her, and she had never realized just how wrong that was until years later.

Mara needs to be free, she needs to be one hundred percent sure that her actions are her own. Currently she is. But will she stay this way if she ever meets her father?

* * *

With Leia's help, Mara is able to claim her mother's possessions. There's not much left. Sera Jade flew her own ship into her last battle, and most of her things were on there.

Still, after almost two weeks of annoying bureaucracy, Mara is handed a basket full of the things her mother left in the little cot she had in the Alliance base she was stationed in. In the safety of her ship she takes everything out and spreads it on her bed to examine it.

There are some clothes, blue pants and two white shirts as well as a red jacket, all in Mara's size. Her mother must have been as tall as her, she marvels, and puts on the jacket. It's worn and old, and even though Mara doesn't remember her mother ever wearing it, she immediately falls in love with it.

A few data pads, holo novels from years ago. One or two seem especially worn, the edges soft and used, as though her mother read them multiple times, and Mara puts them aside to read them later. They might have been her mothers favorites, and Mara wants to know why.

Some basic spaces hip tools are there, most of them outdated, cheap things, some even broken. Mara suspects that her mother kept the top notch tools on her ship, because that's where they would be the most useful.

There's an ordinary hair brush, and some rather nondescript hair slides. A long, red hair is still caught in the brush, as though her mother had put it aside only moments and not years ago.

Finally, Mara's eyes settle on a holo. It's old, and worn. Her hands are shaking just a bit when she hits play. A pretty young woman appears, laughing silently into the holo recorder, while a young girl of maybe four is standing at her feet. The woman bends down and lifts the girl up in her arms, smiling down at what is obviously her daughter.

Mara feels tears running down her cheeks, but she doesn't really care. She watches the holo, again and again, watches the small scene captured in it until it is burned in her mind. Again and again, she sees her laughing mother, sees herself being lifted up in her mothers arm, safe and happy and loved.

Mara smiles, even as her tears fall freely.

* * *

The job is taking longer than she'd thought, but she is okay with that. Helping Karrde, following the plan and evading the Imperial Remnants few patrols helps her keep her mind of her father, even as she is wearing her mothers jacket.

Some of the smugglers remember her mother. Most of them tell her how much she looks like Sera, how they should have realized that there was a relation between them long before now. An elderly man, Maki, tells her some stories about her mothers youth, about Sera's first years as a smuggler and how she first got the ship Mara still partially remembers. Mara listens to every single story he offers her, and stores them away in her memory to never forget them.

When the job is done, she sits down in her ship, alone and content, takes out her mother's holo and puts it on the bed in front of her. Her mother appears, beautiful and young and happy, and Mara can't help but smile.

“You're very beautiful, just like your mother.” A voice from behind startles her. Mara goes for her blaster, still on her hip, and whirls around. There, in the shadow of the door, stands a man. Or maybe he floats? He's shining with some sort of light that seems to come from within, and his lines are... wavering, somehow undefined.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.” She realizes. She doesn't lower her blaster, though, even though she knows that a blaster bolt can't hurt someone who is already dead. Holding on to the blaster at least makes it feel as though she has some semblance of control over the situation.

“Yes.” The man says. He has a soft voice, she realized, softer than she'd imagined reading all the reports of the legendary Jedi warrior.

“Why are you here?” Mara demands sharply. She does not appreciate people, especially men, just showing up in her ship, even if they are her ghostly father.

“I wanted to get to know you. I … I'd never even considered having children, you know. And now, knowing you exist... I needed to get to know you.” He sounds so earnest, it makes Mara want to hit him. Or shoot him. Just on the general principle of the thing.

“How do you even know this?!” Mara yells, slightly panicked. If Skywalker told him, she's going to end him. But no, she can't imagine Luke doing that, ignoring her wishes in this when he almost never ignores them in anything else. It's just not like him.

“Recently, I had wanted to talk to Luke about a certain Jedi school of thought I thought he might find interesting, and I happened to overhear you. I'm sorry, I did not want to spy on you. But once I heard that you are my daughter, I wanted to get to know you.” He's smiling. He has the nerve to be smiling. Mara can't believe it.

“That does not give you the right to just show up in a woman's bedroom! Corellias nine hells, your manners are worse than mine. Where did you even learn them?” The insult is cutting, but Kenobi doesn't seem to notice.

“I'm sorry. I have not been in the company of living people for so long, it's easy to forget some things.” He smiles, and it's maddening.

“You're sorry? Force, I don't believe this.” Mara shakes her head, but her hands on the blaster are steady. Kenobi gives it a distasteful look, and she arches her eyebrow.

“Nothing. Well … I don't like blasters. They're so uncivilized.” He says, clearly disapproving, and Mara absolutely loses it.

“Uncivilized? Are you kriffing kidding me? This is a weapon like any other. It's a tool for injuring and killing, just like a stupid lightsaber is. And, if you hadn't noticed, you're much more likely to survive a blaster bold than a lightsaber blade. So don't you kriffing come here with uncivilized!” She's screaming, and she doesn't care if anyone hears _(nobody will. The Jades Fire is her own ship, nobody else allowed. She is alone, and that's good)_ , because this man has the nerve to show up here, to just come here and not even ask her if she wants to see him, to just expect she'd be happy to talk to him. To just expect she'd be okay with all of this.

“I am sorry if I offended you, Mara. That was not what I intended.” Damn him for being so polite. And calm. Can't he just start screaming like her? That would make things so much easier, and then he'd leave and she'd get her peace.

But of course he can't. He's a Jedi, they're not supposed to feel things. Mara grimaces, and finally lowers her blaster. It's not like the damned thing is going to help her against a freaking ghost anyway.

“Of course you didn't intend that.” She snaps. Then, after a moment. “Do you even remember my mother, or did you just say that because fathers are supposed to say it?”

“I do remember her. Not well, I admit, I didn't know her for very long, but yes, I doubt even I could forget a woman like your mother. She was a sharp young woman when I met her, and very beautiful. I was very sorry to learn of her death.” Didn't know her for very long. _Didn't know her for more than one night sounds more like it,_ Mara thinks. And he's still so damned calm. As though there is nothing she could say that would anger him.

Mara doesn't say anything, she just glares at the ghost in front of her. There aren't many people who can stand her glares, and soon enough, Kenobi begins to back down a bit.

“I know that I'm never truly going to be able to be the father you deserve, Mara. I'm probably not even going to be a father to you, at all. But please, give this a chance. I've made mistakes in the past, too many of them to count, but I want to do this right. I want to do right by you. Please let me.” Kenobi is so very sincere about it.

Mara scoffs. Obi-Wan Kenobi, the hero of the Republic, made mistakes? What huge mistakes that must have been. Maybe he wore his robe the wrong way one day. What a scandal! He told Luke a halftruth, with the explicit intention of protecting him. What a sin! Compared to her own mistakes... no, she's not going to feel bad about herself. Not now.

“I don't need a father. I'm an adult woman. I don't need someone to baby me or raise me or anything.” She says, clear and cutting.

To her surprise, Kenobi nods. “Yes. I understand that. I respect that. I don't want to intrude on your life if you don't want me to.”  _Well, that's what you're doing,_ shoots through Mara's head, but she doesn't say it. “I just want there to be a possibility for us to reach an... understanding.”

Mara sighs. “How do you define an 'understanding'?” She asks him, both eyebrows raised skeptically.

“I want to get to know you, if that's okay for you. And I'd like you to know me, so that we can get a feeling of each other. Understand each other, just a bit.” He says, and it sounds so damned hopeful. Mara grimaces.

“Well, I'm Mara Jade, smuggler in the Smugglers Alliance under Talon Karrde and proud owner of the Jade's Fire. I would shake your hand, but I don't really think you're corporal or whatever it is called.”

Kenobi beams at her.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr as lukeleiahan


End file.
